My best friend lives in West Virginia. While I’ve only visited both southern California and West Virginia, they’re very different places. The economy’s pretty tough down there, even if living expenses are a lot lower. NPR was reporting yesterday that there was a shortage of miners in West Virginia; as a result, the starting salary for a miner can be $50,000 per year. Tallmansville’s also in a pretty rural area. The nearest cities are Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, which is 150 miles away and Charleston, WV which is 120 miles away. Mining is still the dominant industry in West Virginia and, if it’s anything like steel was in Pittsburgh when I was growing up, entire towns are dependent on it. The other thing is, you don’t need a college degree to become a miner. The work may be dirty and dangerous, but you can support a family on one income.
Una Persson, I’m glad you came into this thread. I know you know much more about the coal industry than I do, and I appreciate you being to explain what I’m only vaguely aware of.
Seige, you aptly paint life and labor for many here in WV. I think I heard the average for the 13 was around 25 or 27 years in the mines. The industry is scrambling to attract new, younger workers. Many have/are leaving the state for safer, cleaner, more lucrative, work. Mining can be dangerous, unhealthy (black lung), and inconsistent (layoffs, idling, strikes - though strikes seem to be on the decline along with unions). Even a proud miner parent is likely to discourage their children from following. Many, if not most, parts of the state are losing population.
Yet the state does have a strange hold on folk. A dollar goes quite a bit further here than in SoCal (housing, yikes!). Crime is low. Stress is low. Tradition and family ties are strong (though I’m not a native and still feel the grip). The natural beauty of the mountains and valleys seem to posses a strong, almost magical magnetism. Montani semper liberi.
My work takes me to all 55 WV counties and I’m often impressed with the sense of place I encounter. I visit faded boom towns in the southern coal fields and hear the echos of the vitality they once held. I drive through the former company towns of small identical houses and try to imagine what drew so many there and what keeps the few that remain. I pass active mines, knowing they’ll never produce such communities again, and am both encouraged and saddened. (I mourn the scars of mountain top removal mines yet refuse to connect them with the amount of electricity I use.) Many from these communities choose long commutes into the capital city to support their rural homes. Many fall below the economic line permitting reliable transportation and become trapped.
As the hills repel and expel invading civilization, they hold back a few that truly love them, and punish others for the attempt.
Hope y’all don’t mind my rambling on about my adopted home state. Boy do I need to get my hiking boots on and get away from this computer. Una Persson, you communicated very well. I knew what you meant.
PCapeman, you sound like that best friend I mentioned, an archaeologist who works for the state. Among other things, she’s inspected areas before their mined for sites of archaeological significance and has turned down mining permits if she’s found something. Her work’s also taken her all over the state and she’s told me about some of these mining towns.
I’m in Pittsburgh, myself, and dating a man who’s hobby is photography. I’ve seen how beautiful West Virginia is and I can easily see how it can take hold of someone.
